March 5th, 2018
Im sure the last two weeks have been difficult. Things had been going relatively well, considering. We had talked just a week before it all went south. You seemed fine, still complaining about the doctors and all the ‘crap’ procedures they pushed upon you. But life had gotten quieter, less drama. Do you remember when you called me to say they were holding you hostage? Funny to look back at that. And late last year when you were sure you only had two months to live? I came down to see you, only to find it was a false alarm. I was so mad at you. It makes me smile now because it was so, well, you. I should have seen it coming.
And then you did die, and I’m sorry for that. You would be surprised how many people have spoken up for you. For all your boisterous complaining you still found a way to make it into people's hearts. Good for you!
In the last two weeks you’ve been handled, refrigerated, and cremated. I’m thinking the hardest part was the plane rides I took you on to get you up to the boat. You hate to fly, and let me tell you, the storm that met us as we landed in Canada made me hate to fly as well. Rough really doesn’t cover it, and I’m sorry for that. The ferry ride was bad, but it’s a big ferry, and very safe. That night, finally on the boat, you put up with a gale blowing in from the Southeast. Unbelievable. Almost storm force winds.
Today was the first window of opportunity for us to sail. Off the dock and out into Swanson Channel, we shut off the engine to drift along Ella Bay reef. I had thought of going into deep water, but shallower seemed better, near the light. Sarah had some flowers for you, of course. Hand picked, you know her. The container for your ashes is designed for just this, no plastic, devolving quickly.
Into the sea it quickly sank out of sight while the bouquet floated off with the tide.
Im sure the last two weeks have been difficult. Things had been going relatively well, considering. We had talked just a week before it all went south. You seemed fine, still complaining about the doctors and all the ‘crap’ procedures they pushed upon you. But life had gotten quieter, less drama. Do you remember when you called me to say they were holding you hostage? Funny to look back at that. And late last year when you were sure you only had two months to live? I came down to see you, only to find it was a false alarm. I was so mad at you. It makes me smile now because it was so, well, you. I should have seen it coming.
And then you did die, and I’m sorry for that. You would be surprised how many people have spoken up for you. For all your boisterous complaining you still found a way to make it into people's hearts. Good for you!
In the last two weeks you’ve been handled, refrigerated, and cremated. I’m thinking the hardest part was the plane rides I took you on to get you up to the boat. You hate to fly, and let me tell you, the storm that met us as we landed in Canada made me hate to fly as well. Rough really doesn’t cover it, and I’m sorry for that. The ferry ride was bad, but it’s a big ferry, and very safe. That night, finally on the boat, you put up with a gale blowing in from the Southeast. Unbelievable. Almost storm force winds.
Today was the first window of opportunity for us to sail. Off the dock and out into Swanson Channel, we shut off the engine to drift along Ella Bay reef. I had thought of going into deep water, but shallower seemed better, near the light. Sarah had some flowers for you, of course. Hand picked, you know her. The container for your ashes is designed for just this, no plastic, devolving quickly.
Into the sea it quickly sank out of sight while the bouquet floated off with the tide.
Many native cultures believe that the first animal seen at a burial is that person’s spirit guide. As the flowers drifted off, a bald eagle flew over head, low and slow. What surprised me was that he stayed with the boat, circling overhead for 15-20 minutes before heading off to shore. I’ve never seen an eagle do this.
After reaching Glenthorne Pass we anchored for the night. Out came your collapsible drink cups, the one’s with the sail boats on the lids? We toasted you with Absolute Citroen on ice. The cups held together well. I wonder how many years it had been since they had been used for such a good cause.
As we sail, with each schooner or ketch sighted, I will think of you.
Fair winds and following seas my brother.
After reaching Glenthorne Pass we anchored for the night. Out came your collapsible drink cups, the one’s with the sail boats on the lids? We toasted you with Absolute Citroen on ice. The cups held together well. I wonder how many years it had been since they had been used for such a good cause.
As we sail, with each schooner or ketch sighted, I will think of you.
Fair winds and following seas my brother.
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